Horizon
by Lady Mika'il
Summary: A reflection from Lawerance as the Delphinus is sailing through the Dark Rift.
1. Default Chapter

His name was Vyse;   
  
Well, that was one of his names. He had gone by many. They had called him "Vyse the Bold" after his first escape from the Valuan Armada. They had also referred to him as "Vyse the Stupid" for some time before that, when Vyse was determined to change the world. Then again, persistence always seemed to pay off for the young air-pirate. Which earned him the title "Vyse the Determined" for some time. It was due to his lack of ill-defined intentions that he earned him the full name. Right now, they referred to him as "Vyse the Valiant" -- and that was the one that stuck. Everyone knew of the chivalrous pirate known as "Vyse the Valiant", though not many believed the tales of danger and peril that the boy had just recently overcome. There were many that were doubtful. Many that, in fact, believed that the entire existence of a seventeen year old boy that could defeat the four of the Admirals of the Valuan Armada was only a myth. It was some rumor created and stretched by the crazy veterans that inhabited Sailor's Isle as a last resort for those who still had hope that Valua would not come to rule skies.   
  
To those crewmembers that had taken residence on the Delphinus, Vyse was known as Vyse, nothing more. They had elected him as their Captain under the advice of one Blue Rogue known as Gilder of the Claudia. Those that had been recruited had came out of their own will -- from Sailor's Isle to the broken city Capital of Nasr -- eagerly awaiting Vyse's journeys past the "Tip of the World" -- the hopeless city known as Cape Victory; the former sanctuary for the Valuan Armada.   
  
Whatever they called the desolate tip of Nasr, it felt no more or less like home then the Inne room on Sailor's Isle. He was a Helmsman, and the best at that -- and so, he got top payment for his services. A place to eat and a place to live was just that, and his occupations were so fleeting that he could not call any place "home". He was not nearly so caught up in his loneliness as the Lapen-child that Vyse and his companions had battled before their journey to Cape Victory. Being so angst-ridden and dramatic was only accompanied the price of defeat. There were a thousand other people in Arcadia that had twice the hardships of his, and it was futile to believe that he was the only person in the world that existed; and these ideas were only reinforced moreso by the Lapen-child's temper tantrums.   
  
Ten thousand gold is what Vyse paid him to be here. It was one-tenth of the amount that the two crazy old coots had asked for to do modifications on the Delphinus, and to build a hideaway to repair it when it became necessary. Vyse had the chance to turn him down, he was almost positive the boy had known that he was a mercenary -- and still, he hired him for the price and he asked no questions. Their Captain was far too trusting, though he found that it did not make him uneasy. As a hired mercenary, it was his duty to be uneasy about anything and everything that came his way, but this boy had come to him with the purest intentions. He had never thought that "Vyse the Stupid" - "Vyse the Bold" - "Vyse the Valiant" would be so kindhearted, even after he had been held in Valua twice. He took it upon himself not to make things like this his concern. He was a Helmsman under hire and it wasn't his place to judge any of the crew, especially not the Captain. Still, he couldn't help but let his mind wander during such a bleak adventure.   
  
"Some Ioqua, sugar?" His thoughts were sudden broken to pieces as the deep-throated voice of crew's chef accompanied him at the bar, "It ain't good ta' think on a' empty belly, ya'll end up givin' yerself an belly-hole." Polly scolded, brandishing a frozen mug in one hand and shaking her finger with the other. She was a plump, round woman; though her curves were in all the right places. Her lips were full, and her face was painted up like one of those girls that would stand on the corner of the inne on Sailor's Isle, looking for a nightly job. She came here to find her husband; he remembered -- because he had been there at the time. Vyse had said he needed to stop off at the Sailor's Isle Tavern before they returned to the Delphinus because they needed someone to cook for them as soon as possible (somewhere in there making a crack about how Aika couldn't cook and how they'd all starve if they went too long). That's when Polly agreed to come, miraculously without pay.   
  
"I suppose it'd be nice," he replied, the arms of his purple jacket folded carelessly over the bar of the main lounge. The room was littered with large wooden tables and bright red curtains. The windows had been covered by metal shutters to keep the winds and creatures from the Dark Rift's outside. Over on the far left hand side of the room, Khazim was talking with his men; empowering them with the words of confidence that they would finally defeat the Valuan Empire and avenge the Capital of Nasr that had been destroyed by Vice Captain Ramirez of the Valuan Empire. He let his gaze linger there until he was no longer interested in the thrumming voice of the Gunner.   
  
Polly had retreated to the opposite side of the bar, emptying the thick, purplish liquid from the keg at the far corner. "Somethin' ta' eat as well? Yer almost as skinny as our Captain, an' we can't have that. Ya'll blow away in the wind, Lawrence, dear, especially these winds," she commented, returning and offering the full mug to the tall man that sat in contemplation over things that he swore he'd never bother contemplating. The winds were getting worse, he could hear them creaking through the metallic shutters covering the windows. Vyse had taken the wheel more than five and a half hours ago, and Lawrence hadn't heard any beckoning that he was to return. Aika had patted him on the shoulder and told him to "scurry on down" (those were her direct words) to the banquet hall and ask Polly for something to eat. Aika had also commented that they couldn't have their crew hungry, and there really wasn't anything he could do anyway except stand around and await orders. The entire atmosphere of the Dark Rift that they were sailing through was completely calm; and he watched as the dim yellow lights filled the gloriously decorated room. The room was much more justified in the light of the sun instead of the artificial moonstone-bulbs.   
  
Osman was seated further down from Khazim, and she took it upon herself to complain loudly when she considered Khazim's "boosts of confidence" too irritating. The entire crew was beginning to snap under the pressures of the Dark Rift. They were sailors and adventurers on this airship -- and being constrained in the banquet room they were beginning to get at eachother's throats. Prince Entrique hadn't looked too good when he had left the helm, and Lawrence was sure that the rough winds of the Dark Rift weren't helping his airsickness. It would be better when they got through to the otherside: Yafutoma, the city under the Blue Moon.   
  
Lawrence never expected himself to ever try anything this crazy. Even the sailors that had been stranded at Cape Victory had patronized Vyse's naive ideals of just sailing through the Dark Rift -- as so many others had tried before him. Yet here he was, here they all were, hired or just coming along for the ride, following this boy that they had dubbed "Vyse the Valiant". Maybe it was because he was paid so much to do it -- but then, was he paid enough to risk his life for his Captain? If that was the question at hand, then why was he already here?   
  
Things like killing were easier when life was simple. It would be easier to kill Vyse later if called for, if someone gave him the money to do it, he couldn't get attached to people because it'd be easier to kill them.   
  
"I'm fine," Lawrence replied dryly after a pause in thought, peering into the cup of violet liquid. The Ioquia was fresh. Then again the ship was new, barely a few months old, and he supposed he could expect nothing less.   
  
"Jus' ask if ay' need something, sug," Polly's smile brightened as Lawrence sipped the Ioqua, his eyes wandering from the hard wood of the bar and to the tubbed phone that lead up to the bridge. There was still no word that his assistance was needed, he returned expressionlessly back to his drink.   
  
"How much did he pay you?" Lawrence asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering from his reflection in the dark liquid.   
  
"Pardon?" Polly looked surprised, the mole above her lip raising.   
  
"I asked how much he paid you to be a part of his crew," Lawrence took the time to enunciate each word in case something had been mispronounced, though he doubted it was his enunciation that took her off-guard. His chin raised and he glanced at her the only way he really knew how, harshly.   
  
"The payment was th' ship ta' find my husband," She explained, warily, her expression dropping suddenly at his words; and the full lips inched down into a thin frown. She knew how to handle all sorts of men -- stupid men, harsh men, drunk men, young men -- she had seen them all in her tavern through the ages. There two stilled again, Lawrence unsure of what to say as he never spoke to anyone unless it'd earn him gold. Polly gazed wonderingly at the boy before leaning over the counter with a smile. "Just relax, handsome," She urged, pushing the drink toward him with a smile. "It's okay ta admit ta yerself that ya like it here." 


	2. Buried Alive

Well, since everyone demanded it...  
  
---  
  
Lawerance could feel the bridge of the Delphinus shudder as the wind jostled it. His own body was trained to sail the high skies, though many of his crewmates were not so adequately accustomed. He had left the kitchen on Vyse's call, though he was inwardly relieved because Osman's whining was beginning to get irritating -- not to mention the restlessness of Belle and her companions. Khazim was still boasting and Entrique was still airsick. This, perhaps, was why Lawerance did not bother with people unless he was paid too.  
  
The mercenary leaned over wheel, waiting intently on his Captain's return. Vyse had left with a grave look on his face, accompanied by both Aika and Fina, who followed him like trained puppies. It was one of the first times that Lawerance had witnessed their Captain with such a solemn expression. Vyse was normally overly confident, almost cocky, and he was never graced with anything less than a smile. Lawerance supposed that it was necessary to keep up the morale of the crew, and thus Vyse always beamed and chirped about just about everything, even though they had sometimes been thrown into impossible situations. His lips were always quirked up, his eyes bright, always looking toward their destination, and never back to the path that they had once flown. Lawerance could see how the desperation of the Dark Rift had affected all of their senses. It was a little discouraging to see it seep into the mind of their captain.  
  
The shudders trembled, threatening the cabin with a metallic shriek. Lawerance kept them adrift, just as Vyse had asked. Even though the Delphinus was drifting perfectly still, awaiting the return of its Captain, Lawerance was intent on keeping it perfectly balanced in the morbid stillness of the Dark Rift. There was a sunken ship that was spotted through the telescope, and Vyse had insisted on stopping and making sure it was unmanned. Dyne had told them stories of how Sailors would fly into the Dark Rift -- and how confident that they had been. He had told them that they were sure that they would be able to sail through to the other side; how they were sure that they were going to be able to walk onto the continent beneath the blue moon. The elder Sailor was hopelessly adrift, completely contrasting Vyse's bright personality. He had warn them, told them that no one had gotten out, and that no one had been able to sail through to the other side.  
  
It was a gamble to everyone except Vyse, who seemed sure that they'd be able to sail to the other side. He gave the crew an hour speech to boost their confidence. Though it was hard not to get caught up in Vyse's enthusiasm, the crew's morale seemed to be diminishing by the second. With their Captain gone, and the Dark Rift breathing around them, it seemed to be getting increasingly hopeless. Lawerance found that neither the compass nor their map was of any value here, and even the octant was of little use.   
  
"They have not returned yet?" Lawerance glanced over his shoulder at the young Prince that had stepped up beside him, staring toward the metallic shutters, as if he was looking through them for any perils that his comrades might have encountered. Enrique still looked a little green, and his regalia was wrinkled and scuffed from battle and sleepless nights. The Prince of Valua stood perfectly straight, though it was simple to see that his belly was still bothering him.  
  
Lawerance inspected Enrique's expression before following his gaze through the metal curtains. "No," he said simply. Enrique was another who had trusted Vyse perfectly. Enough to allow him full custody and responsibility for "kidnapping" him. That's what Lawerance heard, and that's how this began. In Vyse's second escape from Valua, the young Prince of the Valuan Empire had asked for them to kidnap him -- along with the best ship in the Valuan fleet. The ship was built around a weapon called the "Moonstone Canon". The "Moonstone Canon" took out everything within a ten mile radius of sky. It was fired, when needed, on Vyse's order; who was now their Captain. Who was outstandingly elected as Captain of Delphinus when it was stolen.  
  
To think that the mercenary was now piloting a Valuan Warship.  
  
"You have been sure to keep look out for them?" Enrique's voice raised through the nausea, glancing over at the hired man to his right. His fingers twitched, as if he was tempted to raise it to his belly; though he was sure that it would be a sign of weakness. The feather hung limply from the royal garment about his head, almost brushing against the nape of his neck. They had barely left Cape Victory and were already in need of another rest.  
  
Lawerance kept his trained expression, his eyes never averting from the metal curtains. Enrique was not a threat to him. "On our Captain's orders," he replied firmly. He was paid to do his job, and he would never do anything less than his job.  
  
There was a hesitant pause in the Prince's voice, as though he was rethinking his words. "Please pardon my tones, I..." The whirl of the wind touched the shudders through the silence, "...I apologize. You must understand that this is a nerve wrecking process. I have put so much on the line to be stopped here, and..." He licked his lips, ignoring his etiquette in his moment of confession. "...I did not mean to question Vyse's faith in you." The Prince quieted, his eyelids falling heavily over his eyes. He looked tired. Tired of being sick, perhaps, or tired of being hopeless, tired of being in the Dark Rift, or beginning to feel the burden of being completely independent.  
  
Lawerance's eyes moved from the rumbling shudders to the face of Prince Enrique. "Whether our Captain has faith in me or not doesn't make any difference," Lawerance's expression never flinched, "I was paid to do my job." The words came coldly, a little more distant than he was used to. These people were threatening his very way of being. The way the Prince was asking him for reassurance, the way that Vyse had smiled grimly at him before he left the helm and out into the depths of the Dark Rift. Before it was simple, he did his job, and then he left with the money. The crew of the Delphinus was asking him for things that couldn't be paid for.  
  
There was another unsure silence between them, as this was the first time that the helmsman and the prince had interacted. Enrique seemed unsure how to gauge Lawerance's reaction, though he remained perfectly elegant in his pose. "Some part of you must ask why Vyse choose you," Enrique's brow furrowed in question as he kept his azure eyes trained on the mercenary. "A Captain must trust his crew, correct?"  
  
Lawerance snorted through his teeth, "It doesn't matter if it's coincidence or---"  
  
"Come now." Enrique hissed, demanding Lawerance's attention. The helmsman looked surprised, for the first time, turning to examine Enrique's hardened expression, "Vyse trusts you. That is why he paid you, all of us on this ship have our own personal quests; and he understands that. If you want to continue deceiving yourself into thinking that the only reason that you are here is because you were paid, then I feel sorry for you. You can at least have the decency to admit that you trust him too."  
  
Perhaps it was the pressure bearing down on them from the Dark Rift, or maybe it was the stale scent of the recirculated air; but Lawerance found that he couldn't force himself away from the Prince's words. Not that he hadn't heard them before, but that Enrique sounded honestly concerned about a man that he had just met -- all because of the boy that had been dubbed "Vyse the Valiant". Lawerance fell silent, for once, at a loss to repeat the same words that he always had.  
  
I'm here because that's what I'm paid to do.  
  
Lawerance could have brushed it off as naivete, but there was some truth that rung in his words. Did he trust Vyse? Or was it something that he didn't want to admit? Or, perhaps, it was easier to brush it off and act like it didn't matter. There had been so many people that he left, and so many jobs that he had done. People that he had killed because he was paid to. Had it always been like this? What about these people made him suddenly question his lifestyle? He had been fine before they had invaded his life. He wondered, if he had always felt this lonely.  
  
It was Polly's voice that came through from the kitchen, and both Lawerance and Enrique turned their attentions toward it, "Open th' door fer god's sake, Robinson is down there!" 


End file.
